If you are ready, if you are prepared
by Possum132
Summary: Cornelius Fudge, Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape witness Barty Crouch, junior, receive the Kiss, and the Phoney War begins.
1. Chapter 1: Cornelius Fudge

**If you are ready, if you are prepared**

_This vignette isn't part of the seven part series that starts with "Why Snape never eats here" – it's just an excuse to look inside the head of Cornelius Fudge. However, if you read the series you will get a better feel for the particular version of the Potterverse in which this story is set._

**Chapter 1: Cornelius Fudge**

He'd hardly tasted the food at the evening feast before the Third Task began, even though it was excellent, as usual. Firstly, he really couldn't spare the time away from the office, and secondly, stumping up the thousand Galleons of prizemoney had strained the Ministry's line of credit with Gringotts to the limit. He'd sat there, exchanging the bare minimum of pleasantries with Ludo Bagman and Madame Maxime, while in his head he ran through the budget figures yet again – but there just didn't seem to be any way out of the mess.

He'd thought, with a pang, how easy it must be for the Muggle Prime Minister - he can always print up some more of that funny Muggle paper money if he runs short – and do wizards like Albus Dumbledore have _any_ idea of the number of Galleons it takes to run St Mungo's, Hogwarts and the Ministry? The money has got to come from somewhere - thank Merlin for the generosity of certain prominent pure-blood families - and hosting the World Cup had cost a fortune! He'd had a taskforce of five hundred working on that all year, ticket sales were _never _going to cover the cost - and it was money thrown away after that awful business with the Dark Mark.

The Dark Mark! That photograph of the Dark Mark had been on the front page of every newspaper in the wizarding world, along with some _very_ unflattering headlines, and the Irish had been furious. They'd dredged up all the old complaints about You-Know-Who's doings being blamed on their Irish Muggles - the IRA or whatever they called themselves – and they'd acted as if that was all _his_ idea, just because he'd been the Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time. Well, what was the Department supposed to do – they couldn't use the gas explosion story every time there was a mass Muggle-killing!

Yes, the Irish had been furious, but that had been easier to bear than the Bulgarian's false sympathy - and their outrageously inflated claims for damaged tents. Oh, the Bulgarians had _pretended_ to be understanding, but he'd known that secretly they were gloating over his embarrassment, because there's always been a certain sympathy for You-Know-Who's ideas in parts of the Continent - Durmstrang still doesn't admit Muggle-borns – and look at who they've got for a Headmaster!

He'd mulled over it for a little while, and then he'd thought, the European Ministries are still nursing a grudge over the Grindelwald war, even though it was fifty years ago - and it wasn't _our _fault that the Muggles made such a mess in Europe. Grindelwald whipped the Muggles up to fight each other but it was mostly their own doing – and in Britain we didn't get off scot free, either, we had six years of hysterical Muggles swarming all over the place, poking their noses into places where they normally didn't venture, shooting at every strange noise and every strange light in the sky. And there'd been casualties, too, because the Muggles had some nasty weapons, ones that could make quite a hole in a flying carpet ...

Not to mention the refugee problem, hundreds of foreign witches and wizards turning up, usually with nothing but the robes they stood up in, and most of them not speaking a single word of English! It had been an incredible headache for the Ministry – before his time, of course, but people were still talking about it when he started his career, in the Improper Use of Magic Office, of all places - and who would have thought that a Ravenclaw from a respectable but poor family would ever rise so far?

Then he'd gone back to thinking about the budget, and he'd thought – damn Scrimgeour and his constant complaints about the cut-backs in the Auror recruitment program! Every Department has had to make economies and the Auror Office is no exception, after all we're not on a war footing any more, You-Know-Who has been gone for thirteen years and I simply can't justify the expenditure.

Thinking about Scrimgeour had really annoyed him, because the fellow is a typical bull-at-a-gate Gryffindor, he doesn't appreciate that sometimes you've got to stop and _think_. Bloody Scrimgeour, the ambitious bastard, he'd gone off on a frolic of his own after the debacle at the World Cup, sent a team of Aurors to search the Albanian forests yet again – and the Albanians had been, understandably, up in arms about _that_, which hadn't made it any easier when he'd been forced to get personally involved in the search for Bertha Jorkins. The Albanian Minister got very shirty indeed at any suggestion that You-Know-Who, notorious refugee from British justice, was hiding in his country or involved in some way in the disappearance of an English tourist.

He'd brooded over that for a minute, because the World Cup had been a tremendous blow to the prestige of the Ministry – and the blasted Triwizard Tournament is turning out to be no better, it's been an unmitigated disaster from start to finish! And then he'd been angry, he'd thought, Dumbledore himself assured me that no under-age witch or wizard would be able to compete – and Harry-bloody-Potter still managed to get his name into the Goblet of Fire!

Harry Potter ... he'd seemed a nice enough boy when he met him at the Leaky Cauldron, but he was really beginning to wonder about Harry Potter, obviously the boy has a bit of a temper – that Hover Charm, and then blowing up his aunt – and a real talent for getting into trouble, too. And while you have to read Rita Skeeter with a certain degree of scepticism – the stuff about Harry seeking power through friendships with werewolves and giants was a beat-up, Lupin was an old friend of the boy's father, and Hagrid was harmless, or if not exactly harmless, he was at least well-intentioned - there's always a grain of truth in Skeeter's stories. Usually, more than a grain of truth, Merlin knows how she gets her information - and if half the things she's written about Harry Potter are true, the boy is more than a little troubled. But Dumbledore still seems to have a soft spot for the boy, but then Harry Potter has always had special treatment, beginning from virtually the day that he started at Hogwarts – hadn't the boy been allowed to play on the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a first year?

And he had to wonder about Dumbledore, he was the wizard who'd eventually stepped in and dealt with Grindelwald, the only wizard that You-Know-Who had ever feared – but Dumbledore didn't seem to have much of a handle on what was going on in his own school. That business with Quirrell, the man was one of Dumbledore's own staff! And the Basilisk, how could anyone miss a twenty foot long serpent slithering around Hogwarts, Petrifying students left, right and centre? Not to mention Sirius Black - the fellow had broken into Hogwarts _twice_, and then escaped from under Dumbledore's very nose!

Perhaps Dolores was right, he needed to take more of a personal interest in Hogwarts, particularly since Lucius isn't on the Board of Governors any longer – that had been a thoroughly awkward affair, and the most outrageous accusations and counter-accusations had been hurled around on all sides. True, Lucius might have acted a little hastily in getting Dumbledore suspended, but Lucius had his only son and heir to think about, the boy was at Hogwarts, and everyone knew how things stood with Narcissa, she was a very beautiful charming witch, but there were plenty of wizards who would have divorced a wife who couldn't give them sons.

Yes, the events of the past year pretty much proved that the Ministry needed to be keeping a closer eye on goings-on at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - what could Dumbledore have been thinking of, to let the Potter boy get away with yet more of his attention-seeking behaviour? And there'd been a veritable storm of owls about _that_, and not just from the Bulgarians and the French - Beauxbatons and Durmstrang draw their students from all over the Continent - permitting Hogwarts to enter two champions in the Tournament had been an absolutely fabulous way to antagonise half of Europe!

He'd almost groaned when he remembered the attack on Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Minister had been apoplectic, and Madam Maxime had demanded that _Prior Incanto_ be performed on her wand – he'd been a bit quick to suspect her of involvement. Poor old Barty, looks like he started losing the plot at the World Cup - his own elf caught red-handed casting the Dark Mark! A sad, sad business, Barty's son had been a Death Eater - the poor misguided boy must have taught the spell to the elf, and when she saw the Death Eaters messing around with those Muggles she'd lost her head and cast the Dark Mark.

Normally there would have been a full inquiry by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but, well, everyone knew what had happened to Barty's son, and Barty had dismissed the elf, so was there anything to be gained from dredging up the whole tragic story?

He'd thought at the time that it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, especially when there were so many skeletons in the closet, Ludo Bagman, for example ... nobody really wants to be reminded of those days, do they? Although in hindsight he had to admit that it would actually have been better if there had been a full inquiry – it might have flushed out the fact that Barty Crouch was losing his marbles, and where has poor demented old Barty wandered off to now? At least young Percy Weasley is doing a good job of managing the day to day business of the Department of International Magical Co-operation, he's a keen young fellow, remarkably bright for a Gryffindor - twelve OWLs and even better results in his NEWTs – and, thank Merlin, the lad doesn't seem to share his father's embarrassing Muggle-mania ...

Finally, the enchanted ceiling overhead had faded from blue to a dusky purple, the feast had ended, and he'd watched the four champions head into the maze, privately hoping that either Viktor Krum or Fleur Delacour would win, and something could be salvaged from the catastrophe.

But it had been a long time before anything had happened, and when a shower of red sparks was finally seen, it had been Krum who was in difficulties - and when they went in to get Krum, Minerva McGonagall had found Miss Delacour lying Stunned, not far inside the maze.

There'd been a long, anxious wait before suddenly Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory had appeared from nowhere, clutching the Triwizard Cup, and he'd known straightaway that something was wrong, very wrong – Cedric Diggory was limp, unmoving, unconscious? He'd hurried forward, gone to help Cedric – and then he'd realised that Cedric was dead, Harry was injured – girls had started screaming, it was all very confusing, Alastor Moody had whisked Harry off to the Hospital Wing, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape had all vanished, and he was left to try and explain things as best as he could to Amos Diggory and his wife.

He had no idea at all of what had happened in the maze, Cedric's parents and Pomona Sprout were beside themselves, Ludo Bagman had completely fallen apart, Bagman was just standing around wringing his hands – and the vultures from the _Daily Prophet_, Rita Skeeter and her photographer – had come buzzing around, trying to get the story.

And now Severus Snape is whispering in his ear, saying that they've caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events, and he thinks – Karkaroff? But Snape says it's not Karkaroff, he says that it's young Barty Crouch, who's been _dead_ for twelve years, but apparently Barty Crouch isn't dead! His father – who _is_ dead - smuggled him out of Azkaban, and he's been impersonating Alastor Moody all year, it's some scheme to do with Harry Potter, Barty Crouch thinks he's been acting on his master's orders, and it's not quite clear what happened to Cedric Diggory but Barty Crouch is involved in some way - and now Snape wants him to come up to Alastor Moody's office, to see for himself.

He hesitates, it's a wild story, and Snape makes him feel uneasy - the way the fellow ranted and screamed when Sirius Black escaped, Snape had appeared to be positively unbalanced – and while he's been too busy to read Snape's Ministry file, he'd asked Dolores to prepare a briefing note. He'd been rather taken aback by what he'd read in that note - nasty stuff, very nasty stuff indeed - and he'd been a bit surprised that Dumbledore was prepared to keep Snape at Hogwarts after the war was over, and he ceased to be useful.

Then he decides to summon a Dementor, because if it really is Barty Crouch, junior, Crouch will be going straight back to the Dementors, pending a proper interrogation. And Crouch might be after bigger game than a fourteen year old boy, even if he is the Boy Who Lived - Black must have helped Crouch, and Black might still be hanging around, and it's alarming to think that there are two dangerous, deranged escapees from Azkaban, alarming to think that two Death Eaters have somehow managed to evade the Dementors.

So now they're walking up the marble stairs, the Dementor trailing behind them, and he can feel Snape bristling with disapproval beside him, he knows that Dumbledore will be angry, but he's the Minister for Magic, and he's entitled to appropriate protection when dealing with a fanatical supporter of You-Know-Who, a madman who refuses to accept that his master is gone, defeated ...

Snape opens the door to an office on the third floor, and he walks in, nods to Minerva, who's pointing her wand at a man bound with ropes, and he can only stare in amazement, because it's young Barty Crouch all right, it's the same pale-skinned, freckly, fair-haired boy he'd seen dragged off from Courtroom Ten by the Dementors so many years ago, but Barty Crouch is lined around the eyes now and he looks much older ... and he's giggling and muttering and rocking backwards and forwards, he's muttering something incoherent about _my Master, my Master, my Master will come for me ..._

He draws back in horror – and then the Dementor sweeps past him, Barty Crouch doesn't even have time to scream, and it's all over - the body is slumping back against the wall, the eyes are blank, the face is slack, and Barty Crouch is just an empty shell. Minerva starts yelling, a silver cloud explodes from her wand, and the Dementor disappears out the door in a flurry of black robes.

Minerva continues to shout about the Dementor and Barty Crouch and You-Know-Who, Snape says nothing – and while he agrees that it was a regrettable incident, Minerva is definitely over-reacting. Sirius Black will receive the Kiss when the Aurors catch up with him, the Kiss is the appropriate penalty for escape from Azkaban – and Barty Crouch, junior, has committed terrible crimes, the torture of the Longbottoms and the murder of his own father! And he, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, would like to see the Headmaster right _now_, and Snape has told him that Dumbledore will be up in the Hospital Wing, with Harry Potter.

As they head for the Hospital Wing, he tries to argue with Minerva, but she simply won't listen, he's wasting his breath, and Dumbledore isn't in the Hospital Wing anyway, there's only Harry Potter, Molly Weasley, a couple of her boys, and a bushy-haired girl he's seen with Harry once or twice before ...

Then the door opens, Dumbledore appears, and Minerva starts ranting about the Dementor again, ranting about how Dumbledore would never have allowed a Dementor to set foot inside the castle.

Now he's angry, Dumbledore may be the Headmaster, but this isn't a matter of school discipline, this is a criminal matter, a Ministry matter!

"My dear woman," he roars, "As Minister for Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous -"

But Minerva's voice is drowning his. "The moment that - that thing entered the room," she screams, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and - and - "

Yes, it had been a horrible sight – and now he has the problem of what to do with the empty shell, it can hardly be sent back to Azkaban, and it would be bad taste to put it in the same ward at St Mungo's as the Longbottoms ...

"By all accounts, he is no loss!" he protests. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"

"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," says Dumbledore, looking at him oddly.

Testimony! From what he'd seen of Barty Crouch, muttering and giggling like a lunatic, he'd completely lost his mind and was incapable of giving testimony anyway!

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" he shouts. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"

"Lord Voldemort _was_ giving him instructions, Cornelius," says Dumbledore. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

He blinks, why is Dumbledore saying ludicrous, disturbing things like this? And why does Dumbledore have to use Lord ... Thingy's ... name? He must know how it upsets people!

"You-Know-Who ... returned?" he splutters. "Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore."

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," says Dumbledore. "We heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort - learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins - went to free him from his father, and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

He thinks, Dumbledore is still banging on about Bertha Jorkins, he still thinks there's some connection between Jorkins and the Crouches, he's really got a bee in his bonnet about that! Obviously, Barty Crouch was smuggled out of Azkaban, I don't doubt _that_ part of the story, but as for the rest of it ... the Barty Crouch I saw tonight couldn't string two words together!

"See here, Dumbledore," he can't help smiling. "You - you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who - back? Come now, come now ... certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders - but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore ..."

"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort," says Dumbledore steadily. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all if you will step up to my office."

He looks questioningly at Harry, but Dumbledore glances around at Harry and shakes his head. "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."

His smile lingers - so this is where the notion that Voldemort has returned is coming from, and who knows what happened to Harry Potter in the maze tonight? Something disturbing, because Cedric is dead and it seems that Harry might have witnessed it, the way he was clinging to the body, and muttering something about bringing Cedric back – and it might have been the last straw, the thing that's pushed young Harry over the edge ...

He glances at Harry, looks back at Dumbledore, and says, "You are – er - prepared to take Harry's word on this are you, Dumbledore?"

There's a moment's silence, broken by the growling of a big black dog crouched by Harry's bed - and what is a _dog_ doing in a hospital ward? He's heard that Dumbledore indulges the boy but this is ridiculous - Harry is permitted to have his pets with him even in the Hospital Wing!

"Certainly I believe Harry," says Dumbledore, and now he's looking furious. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

He thinks, Dumbledore is obsessed by Jorkins! He can't have ever known her well, I hate to be unkind but she was both lazy and stupid – and I wish now that I'd sacked her, instead of letting her be shunted around from Department to Department. I expect she ended up inside an Albanian werewolf, and no loss to the Ministry, either!

He glances at Harry again and steels himself to use the name ...

"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who ... well ..."

He can't help himself from looking at Harry again, but he'd prefer to avoid actually having to say what he's thinking in front of the poor disturbed boy.

Harry suddenly speaks up, "You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr Fudge."

His face reddens slightly – yes, he has, and it's outrageous that the Minister for Magic has to glean important facts from newspaper articles! Why didn't Dumbledore tell him that the boy was a Parselmouth! That had been a very disturbing piece of information - not to mention the fits, which seem to be getting worse, because Percy Weasley had said, flatly, that he'd never witnessed one, and he'd had Potter in his home as a house guest.

"And if I have?" he says, looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place?"

"I assume you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" says Dumbledore, coolly.

Ah, he thinks, now we're getting somewhere, Dumbledore is admitting that Harry Potter does have funny pains – real or imaginary – in his scar, and maybe the best thing is to transfer the boy to St Mungo's and have the experts check him out ...

"You admit that he's been having these pains, then?" he says, quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly – hallucinations?"

"Listen to me, Cornelius," says Dumbledore, taking a step towards him. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

He takes half a step backwards, there's something menacing in Dumbledore's manner, but he's not going to allow himself to be bullied. Dumbledore is a great wizard, but he's not a qualified Healer ...

"You'll forgive me, Dumbledore," he says stubbornly. "But I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before ..."

Harry starts shouting, "Look, I saw Voldemort come back!"

He tries to get out of the bed, Molly Weasley forces him back, but the boy keeps shouting, "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy - "

Now he's offended, because this is getting nasty, he can make allowances for young Potter, clearly he's had some kind of traumatic experience tonight, but this is going too far! And does the boy have any idea what he's saying? Lucius was cleared by a full hearing of the Wizengamot – and the Malfoys are such a distinguished, wealthy, generous family!

"Malfoy was cleared," he says. "A very old family - donations to excellent causes - "

"Macnair!" continues Harry.

"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!" he shouts.

"Avery – Nott - Crabbe - Goyle -"

Now he's more than offended, he's furious – the boy may not understand the seriousness of what he is saying, but it's got to stop, he can't be allowed to continue to repeat these dreadful slanders! And where has Potter got the information – from the old copies of the _Daily Prophet_ they keep in the Hogwarts library? Potter must have started digging around when Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban – and hadn't he been babbling some crazy story about Black being innocent and Pettigrew faking his own death? Sweet Merlin, he should have been shipped off to St Mungo's then!

"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" he says angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore - the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year, too - his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them - the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"

And now Minerva is buying into the argument, shouting, "You fool! Cedric Diggory! Mr Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"

He thinks, Minerva has always been very close to Dumbledore, one has to wonder sometimes about what goes on between them, but what is this – a folie a deux?

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" he shouts, really angry, and knowing that his face is turning that unattractive purple colour. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilise everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"

"Voldemort has returned," repeats Dumbledore. "If you accept that fact straight away, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the Dementors - "

He can't believe what he's hearing, because even without wands the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange are not to be trifled with, only the Dementors can keep that kind of maniac under control - and what would the wizarding community think of such madness?

"Preposterous!" he shouts. "Remove the Dementors! I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the Dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant that he asks them!" says Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the Dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

His mouth is opening and closing, how can Dumbledore doubt the loyalty of the Dementors? They didn't join You-Know-Who in the war, they'd stayed loyal to the Ministry! And now he's starting to doubt Potter's story that the Dementors had attacked him at the end of last year ...

"The second step you must take – and at once," Dumbledore is pressing on, "is to send envoys to the giants."

WHAT! The giants! They'd caused mayhem in the war – You-Know-Who always used them when he was going for the grand effect, and the Aurors had hunted them out of Britain after the war, killed most of them ...

"Envoys to the giants?" he shrieks, "What madness is this?"

"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," says Dumbledore. "Or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone amongst wizards will give then their rights and their freedom!"

Rights? Freedom? For non-human brutes like the giants? And if he did anything like that, he'd be handing the Ministry to Scrimgeour on a plate! Scrimgeour is ambitious, no doubt about that, and his aspirations go a good deal higher than Amelia Bones' job – hell's bells, if people got wind of the idea that he'd even considered approaching the giants, Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office, a wizard who had personally put down a number of giants, would be Minister for Magic before you could say _Wingardium Leviosa!_

"You - you cannot be serious!" he gasps, shaking his head and retreating from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants - people hate them, Dumbledore - end of my career!"

"You are blinded," says Dumbledore, his voice rising now, and the aura of menace around him palpable, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognise that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your Dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any – and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now – take the steps that I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers for Magic we have ever known. Fail to act – and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside, and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"

Now he's both frightened and bewildered, because Dumbledore is threatening him - and accusing him of pure-blood prejudice, accusing him of sharing You-Know-Who's vicious ideas! And that's nonsense, because in his Ministry Muggle-borns aren't favoured, but they're given a fair chance, a fair chance of advancement if they have the ability ...

"Insane," he whispers, backing away. "Mad ..."

And now Dumbledore is saying really alarming things, saying something about a parting of the ways, saying that he, Dumbledore, shall act as he sees fit.

But he rallies, finds his courage – and remembers that Dumbledore had his chance to be Minister for Magic when Millicent Bagnold retired, Dumbledore hadn't wanted the position – and it isn't fair that Dumbledore should interfere with _his_ decisions, when he's never meddled in Hogwarts affairs, never used the Ministry's plenary powers over the school ...

He bristles, waves a finger, reminds Dumbledore that he's always given him free rein, but he can't tolerate insubordination, he can't tolerate people working against him.

Dumbledore says that the only person who he intends to work against is You-Know-Who, and it's a bit hard to argue against that ...

He rocks backwards and forwards, spinning his bowler hat in his hands, because he doesn't want to fall out with Dumbledore, not really, not over this ... the man is, after all, a legend, a household name - he's on the Chocolate Frog Cards!

He pleads with Dumbledore to be sensible, to give up this insane, distressing insistence that You-Know-Who is back ... please, can't Dumbledore just let things go back to the way they were?

And then Snape – Snape, who he's almost forgotten, because Snape has been keeping his mouth shut and keeping out of the way, standing back behind Dumbledore - strides forward, pulls up the left sleeve of his robes, sticks out his forearm, and shows him the vile, repellent mark on his arm – and he knows what it is, even though he's never actually seen it before.

He recoils, he's disgusted, revolted, and he's thinking – this place is a madhouse!

Snape is saying something, but he's not taking in a word – because Dumbledore, his Deputy Headmistress and his Potions Master have, quite clearly, all taken leave of their senses, and he just wants to get out of the place, to get out of Hogwarts and back to the Ministry, back to his own staff - to normal people, people who are both loyal and sane.


	2. Chapter 2: Minerva McGonagall

**If you are ready, if you are prepared**

**Chapter 2: Minerva McGonagall**

She'd wanted to take Harry straight to the Hospital Wing, he was wounded, both in the leg and the arm, and something dreadful has happened, Cedric is dead, and Harry must have seen it, he'd been clutching Cedric's arm like a vice - and Alastor ... Alastor Moody wasn't himself, something was terribly wrong. But Albus had said no, Albus had said, _he will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand_ – and she hadn't understood herself.

Albus had sent to her to fetch Sirius from Hagrid's pumpkin patch and take him up to the Headmaster's office - and she couldn't help giving the big black dog a hug, and whispering an apology for ever doubting him into his ear. But if it had been anyone other than Albus who'd told her that Sirius was innocent she wouldn't have believed it, she'd been stunned when Albus told her what had happened in the Shrieking Shack, told her that Harry believed Sirius to be innocent - and shown her the piece of parchment that Harry had sent him, _I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade at weekends_.

It had almost given her a heart attack to think of it, moonlight expeditions through the Forbidden Forest and Hogsmeade village in the company of a transformed werewolf, criminal recklessness! What if someone had been bitten? And how could Remus have let them do it – he was a prefect! Oh, James and Sirius had been wild, wilful boys ... but she couldn't help feeling a glow of pride in them, they were such bright boys, exceptionally bright boys to have mastered the Animagus Transformation at fifteen! They really were the cleverest boys in the school - and little Peter Pettigrew, he was the traitor? But he'd tagged after James and Sirius everywhere, he'd worshipped them, how could he betray his friends?

It had hurt to think of Sirius unjustly imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years, hurt to think of the wreck of a man she'd seen on the wanted posters - but it had hurt just as much to discover that the lumpy little boy who she'd always believed had finally proved himself a true Gryffindor was a coward, a spy and a traitor. And she'd been utterly ashamed that she'd ever, _ever_ wondered why Neville Longbottom had been Sorted into Gryffindor, because while Neville struggles in every one of his classes except Herbology there's no doubting his courage. He'd had the courage to stand up even to his friends, earned Gryffindor the deciding ten points in his first year - and she'd been very pleased to hear of his mastery of the Riddikulus spell. That had taken a lot of bravery, facing both his fear of Severus, and of that dragon of a grandmother, though it was a great pity it had been so embarrassing for Severus, she'd had to struggle not to laugh herself when she'd heard - Severus in drag! And wearing Augusta's ghastly vulture hat!

She'd told Sirius that Harry was safe and Albus would be with him shortly, then she'd hurried back down to the third floor - and it had been a dreadful shock to walk through the door of the Defence teacher's office and see a man who has been dead for twelve years.

It had been nauseating to hear of what Barty Crouch had done to his father, and terrifying to have confirmation of what Albus had feared - Voldemort has returned, has regained a body. It will be war again, and already there have been casualties, already there have been deaths ... Cedric Diggory would have been Head Boy next year if he'd lived, the first Hufflepuff to win that honour since Edgar Bones.

So now she's pointing her wand at Barty Crouch's chest, and she's wondering - how well did I know my students? First Peter Pettigrew – and now Barty Crouch, because it's Barty Crouch all right. It's the same pale-skinned, freckly, fair-haired boy she'd seen dragged out of Courtroom Ten by the Dementors so many years ago, but Barty Crouch is lined around the eyes now and he looks much older ... and he's giggling and muttering and rocking backwards and forwards, he's muttering something incoherent about _my Master, my Master, my Master will come for me_ ...

She's thinking, does he even know who I am? It's unbelievable, the man who'd sat next to her at the evening feast before the Third Task and chatted casually about Harry's chances of winning the Tournament is Barty Crouch, the milque-toast boy who'd been such a disappointment to Horace. An intelligent boy - twelve OWLs and even better results in his NEWTs - but he seemed to lack any ambition, he had no desire to follow his father into the Ministry, and he'd simply disappeared after he left school.

She'd wondered herself if young Barty had been mis-Sorted, he seemed to belong in Ravenclaw, not Slytherin, but she could remember his Sorting, and the Hat had shouted _Slytherin!_ as soon as it touched his head - not like Severus, the Hat had taken quite a while to decide which House to put him into. She'd wondered what choices it was offering the boy, and she'd been sure that it must have been between Slytherin and Ravenclaw - the sharp-featured little creature looked clever - but she'd seen his lips moving, and she was a pretty fair lip reader, one of the little tricks that helps to keep a class in order - and she'd been both surprised and relieved when she'd realised what he was saying, _not Gryffindor, _because she'd been teaching long enough to know trouble when she saw it.

And she'd been right, Severus had been a very difficult boy - talented yes, but what a temper, he'd feuded relentlessly with James and Sirius from the very first week of term. She could remember when it started, the fight outside her class-room – she'd heard the commotion and stepped into the corridor in time to see it all, Sirius' wand flying out of his hand, and then the bone-breaking hex that had smashed every bone in Sirius' right hand and arm so badly that Poppy had to remove the bones and regrow them with Skele-Grow. She'd thought, _nasty little coward, attacking a boy who's already been disarmed – and how is it that a first year knows such a Dark spell, anyway?_

She'd taken Severus straight up to the Headmaster's office, and it had all come out there, the abusive Muggle father and what seemed a chronically depressed mother – and where the boy had learned the spell, from his mother, Eileen Prince, and what could you expect? The woman's father was a criminal, a Dark wizard, he'd died in Azkaban. So, in the circumstances, it hadn't been expulsion - just a week's detention with Apollyon Pringle - but that had only been the start of the trouble between Severus and the Marauders.

And Severus had fallen in with the wrong company, she'd couldn't forget how eagerly he'd trotted off to the Slytherin table after his Sorting to get a pat on the head from Lucius Malfoy, the new fifth year Slytherin prefect - and how can Severus still be friendly with that awful man?

Lucius Malfoy! His malice against Albus is intolerable, but thank Merlin he's been kicked off the Board of Governors, and how can Cornelius Fudge still be taken in by him? Oh, Malfoy was cleared of all charges on the grounds of bewitchment under the Imperius Curse and that was, to use Hagrid's language, a load of dung!

She'd _never_ liked Lucius Malfoy, _never_ been taken in by his charm and good looks. He'd been Head Boy, and of course Horace had adored him - as he adored all the handsome boys. Severus had followed Malfoy around like a puppy while they were both at school, she'd have been concerned that there was something ... unwholesome ... between them, except that Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black were already a couple. And Severus certainly wasn't, hmm, that way inclined, his behaviour with girls in his final year at Hogwarts had been appalling, there'd been a good deal more than that disgraceful incident behind the greenhouse with that silly little Hufflepuff, Florence ... Florence something-or-other.

Though, to be fair, Sirius' behaviour had been nearly as bad - but all the attractive girls had been falling over themselves to be seen with Sirius Black, despite his reputation as a heart-breaker, and boys will be boys. And Sirius had broken her heart, too, when she thought that he had betrayed James and Lily and their baby to Voldemort, and she couldn't understand it, she didn't want to believe it - but Albus himself had given evidence that Sirius had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, and she'd thought, _bad blood will out_.

And now she's thinking, if any good can come out of what's happened tonight, at least Sirius' name will be cleared. When the Minister for Magic has heard Barty Crouch's confession, when Cornelius Fudge has heard what Harry has to say, Sirius will be exonerated, and Harry will have a proper home to go to when school finishes this year.

Barty Crouch is still muttering and giggling to himself, still muttering about _my master_, and she realises - this dreadful creature is one of the fiends who tortured Frank and Alice into insanity, and Neville will have to know. Neville will have to know that it was Barty Crouch who demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse to him ... it was only a spider, but Neville was terribly upset, and Merlin knows what nightmares he'll have, imagining his parents' torture – and the thought makes her feel sick.

And then she feels a chill, a sense of unease, a sense of foreboding - the door opens and Fudge and Severus walk into the room and she can see the Dementor behind them, but she's taken completely unawares. She hadn't thought for a minute that Fudge would bring a Dementor with him, because Albus would never permit a Dementor in Hogwarts, not after the attack on Harry at the end of last year, and surely Fudge knows that.

Fudge recognises Barty Crouch, he looks surprised and then disgusted - and then, before she can protest, before she can raise her wand, the Dementor sweeps past him, it swoops on Barty Crouch - and she's so close, she can see everything. The grey, glistening, scabby hands reach out from under the cloak, seize Crouch's face, and Barty knows what's going to happen, because his eyes are wide open, lucid, he opens his mouth to scream, the thing fastens its jaws onto him - and then it's all over, the body is slumping against the wall, the eyes are blank, the face is slack, and Barty Crouch is just an empty shell.

And now she's shouting, a silver cloud bursts from her wand, the Dementor flees out the door – Fudge looks horrified, shocked, but then he starts shouting, too, blustering about the Kiss being an appropriate punishment for escape from Azkaban, the Kiss has been authorised for Sirius Black ... and he's entitled to protection when questioning a dangerous maniac!

Fudge is demanding to see Albus, and they head towards the Hospital Wing because Albus will be there, with Harry - but she can't stop shouting at Fudge, because she's almost beside herself. Not even Barty Crouch deserved _that_ ... and now Crouch can't talk - and when Albus finds out what has happened, his anger is going to be terrible to witness. And she knows that it's all her fault, she should have driven the thing away the moment that she saw it, she couldn't expect Severus to do anything, not with his record - if he were to defy the Minister for Magic, not even Albus could save him from Azkaban.

They burst into the Hospital Wing, trailing after Fudge as he strides up the ward, but Albus isn't here, there's only Molly Weasley, Bill, Ron, Harry and Hermione – and Sirius, crouched by Harry's bed in his Animagus form.

"Where's Dumbledore?" demands Fudge.

"He's not here," says Molly angrily. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to -"

But then the door opens, and Albus sweeps up the ward. "What has happened?" he says, sharply, looking from Fudge to herself. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you - I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch -"

There are angry blotches in her cheeks, her hands are balled into fists, she's trembling with fury – fury at Fudge, and fury at herself, because she's failed Albus.

"There is no need to stand guard over him any more, Dumbledore!" she shrieks. "The Minister has seen to that!"

Then Severus speaks up, in a low voice, to explain that Fudge insisted on summoning a Dementor to accompany him into the castle ...

How could Fudge have done this! He must know that the Dementors can't be trusted! Only last year they'd attacked Harry – twice! And the second time they'd tried to administer the Kiss! On an innocent boy! And now Fudge is trying to ignore the fact that the Dementor was out of control - because whatever he says, she won't believe the thing had orders to attack Barty Crouch on sight!

"I told him you would never agree, Dumbledore," she storms. "I told him you would never allow Dementors to set foot inside the castle, but - "

Fudge looks angrier than she's ever seen him. "My dear woman," he roars, "as Minister for Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous -"

Dangerous! Crouch was bound with ropes – ropes he couldn't possibly break, ropes conjured by Albus Dumbledore himself! And has Fudge no confidence in his own powers, no confidence in her, or in Severus? No confidence in two professors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – the Heads of their respective Houses?

Her voice is drowning Fudge's. "The moment that - that thing entered the room," she screams, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and - and - "

She can't bring herself to describe what she saw – and Fudge is protesting, he's saying, "By all accounts, he is no loss! It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"

"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," says Albus, staring hard at Fudge, as if he can't believe what he's hearing.

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" Fudge shouts. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"

She thinks, Barty Crouch was mad, yes, there's no denying that, but he could still talk! Under the influence of Veritaserum he could still _talk_ – and we would have learned a lot, learned of Voldemort's plans, where he's hiding, which of his old supporters have rejoined him ...

"Lord Voldemort _was_ giving him instructions, Cornelius," says Albus. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

Fudge looks dazed, he blinks and splutters, "You-Know-Who ... returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore."

She's listening to Fudge, and she can't believe what she's hearing – is this the same wizard who'd bombarded Albus with owls when he was first made Minister? The same wizard who's always had so much faith in Albus?

"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," says Albus. "We heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort - learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins - went to free him from his father, and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

"See here, Dumbledore," Fudge is smiling, now. "You - you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who - back? Come now, come now ... certainly, Crouch may have _believed_ himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders - but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore ..."

And now she sees it, Fudge doesn't want to believe that Voldemort is back, he'll look an absolute fool – cutting back the Auror recruitment program to save a few Galleons, accepting contributions to Ministry funds from known Death Eaters, doing nothing about Bertha's disappearance, standing idly by while their only source of information about Voldemort received the Kiss!

"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort," says Albus steadily. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all if you will step up to my office."

_Yes_, she thinks, if we show Fudge our memories of Barty Crouch's confession in Albus' Pensieve, that will convince him ...

Fudge looks questioningly at Harry, but Albus glances around at Harry and shakes his head. "I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight."

Fudge's smile lingers, he glances at Harry, looks back at Albus, and says, "You are – er - prepared to take Harry's word on this are you, Dumbledore?"

There's a moment's silence, broken only by Sirius growling, his hackles are raised and he's baring his teeth at Fudge – and she hopes Fudge won't look too closely at the big black dog, it's just too complicated to explain about Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew right now ...

"Certainly I believe Harry," says Albus, and now his eyes are blazing. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

She thinks, can't Fudge see it? The same pattern ... last time the disappearances started long before Voldemort moved openly against the Ministry – and after the disappearances came the Muggle-killings, then the attacks on the Muggle-borns ...

Fudge glances at Harry again, says, "You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who ... well ..."

Harry suddenly speaks up, "You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr Fudge."

Fudge's face reddens slightly, he looks defiant and obstinate – he _has_ been reading Skeeter's articles in the _Daily Prophet. _And how can Fudge take that woman seriously, after the things she said about Albus in her piece on the International Confederation of Wizards Conference, and her disgracefully irresponsible reporting of the World Cup! She pilloried the Ministry!

"And if I have?" says Fudge, looking at Albus. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place?"

She thinks, what of it, if Harry can speak Parseltongue? Half the school thought he was the Heir of Slytherin in his second year, and they were proved wrong! And what is this rubbish about funny turns? Harry developed a violent headache in Divination, and who wouldn't – in that hot, stuffy, _smelly_ little room, with Sybill Trelawney banging on about her "extraordinarily clairvoyant vibrations" – clairvoyant my foot! _Damn_ Rita Skeeter, she'd turned on Harry the minute he refused to give her any more interviews!

"I assume you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" asks Albus, coolly.

"You admit that he's been having these pains, then?" Fudge says, quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly – hallucinations?"

Damn Fudge! Now he's trying to make out that Harry is the lunatic, what's he going to suggest next – that Harry needs to be examined by the Healers, that he needs to be confined to the same ward in St Mungo's as Neville's parents? And is Fudge a complete fool, to infuriate Albus like this? Because Albus is losing patience with Fudge ...

"Listen to me, Cornelius," says Albus, taking a step towards Fudge. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."

That scar, it's like no other curse scar she's ever seen, like no other curse scar that Albus or Severus have ever seen, and Albus believes that it connects Harry and Voldemort in some way.

Fudge takes a step backwards, but he's still being stubborn. "You'll forgive me, Dumbledore," he says, "but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before ..."

Harry starts shouting, "Look, I saw Voldemort come back!"

He tries to get out of the bed, Molly forces him back, but Harry keeps shouting, "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy - "

She thinks, Voldemort has already summoned his Death Eaters! And how long will it be before he gathers all his old allies about him, breaks Bellatrix Lestrange and the others out of Azkaban – if the Ministry doesn't act _now_. And this time Albus won't have a spy close to Voldemort, Albus was forced to reveal that Severus was his spy before the full Wizengamot - two hundred witches and wizards heard him say, _Severus Snape is now no more a Death Eater than I am_. Severus can't go back to Voldemort now, Voldemort will never trust him again – and why did Severus leave his Dark Lord, anyway?

It hadn't been hard to see why Severus Snape, notorious for his interest in the Dark Arts, would want to become a Death Eater – if Voldemort would have him, considering that he wasn't pure-blood. But why had Severus left Voldemort's service? Albus won't say, though as a half-blood, Severus could hardly have ever believed the pure-blood supremacist nonsense ... but if that is the reason, why so secretive? It's true that Severus is ashamed of his Muggle father - when he was a student he put the story about Hogwarts that his father's family were refugees from the Grindelwald war, because no one had ever heard of the name Snape – and his half-blood origins aren't widely known, not even his own House know that Severus is a half-blood. But _she_ knows - so if that's all that it is, why doesn't Albus tell her? And can Albus really trust Severus? People always wonder about that at the Order reunions, and she's heard that there are chilling things in Severus' Ministry file, but Albus has told her explicitly that Severus' repentance is absolutely genuine, Albus won't hear a word against Severus. And Severus is devoted to Albus, anyone can see how much he likes it when Albus pays a bit of attention to him, when Albus comes into the staff-room, stands behind Severus' chair, and put his hand on his shoulder ... Severus was terribly jealous when Remus came back to Hogwarts last year.

Fudge looks affronted, he's blithering about a very old family, donations to excellent causes, but Harry keeps listing the names - Macnair, Avery, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle – and where would he get that information from? And now Fudge is openly calling Harry a liar, saying to Albus, _the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?_

She thinks, Fudge is a Ravenclaw, he's supposed to be clever, but there are none so blind as those who will not see!

And then she remembers Fudge from their school days, he'd been in second year when she was Head Girl, and she thinks, the jumped up little swot of a Ravenclaw! Cornelius Fudge should never have been made Minister – he would _never_ have been Minister for Magic if Albus had wanted the job, or if Barty Crouch's father hadn't been disgraced by a Death Eater son, or if Rufus Scrimgeour had been a little more senior in the Ministry!

And she can't restrain herself, though she knows it won't help, she shouts, "You fool! Cedric Diggory! Mr Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"


	3. Chapter 3: Severus Snape

**If you are ready, if you are prepared**

**Chapter 3: Severus Snape**

He hadn't jumped backwards or screamed like Molly Weasley when the big black dog transformed into Sirius Black, because he'd been subliminally aware of the animal crouching by Harry Potter's bed even if all of his conscious attention had been focused on the power play between Fudge and Dumbledore - and on what Harry Potter had to say.

He'd known that the Dark Lord had already summoned his Death Eaters, he'd felt the Dark Mark burn black on his arm, he'd gritted his teeth because it hurt like hell - he'd almost forgotten how much disobedience to the Dark Lord can hurt - and shown it to Dumbledore. In hindsight it had been a mistake to show the Dark Mark to Fudge, though, it had spooked Fudge, not convinced him - so he'd humiliated himself in front of Black and Potter for nothing, but that wasn't his biggest problem right now.

The Dark Mark had been a general summons, it hadn't been just for him, and he'd wondered if any of them would dare not to return, because you can run from the Dark Lord but you can't hide – as Karkaroff will find out, the idiot, he'd bolted when he could have stayed at Hogwarts and sheltered behind Dumbledore's skirts. Not that he, Severus Snape, had encouraged Karkaroff to stay - because the Headmaster is so bloody soft-hearted he probably would've given Karkaroff the Defence job next year. And he wasn't Karkaroff's keeper, fuck the bastard, Karkaroff was a grown-up and he could sodding well look out for himself.

From what Potter had said, Lucius Malfoy had answered the summons and that wasn't really a surprise, not really - though for a moment he'd wildly, foolishly hoped otherwise, because he still can't understand how Lucius had got sucked in. What could the Dark Lord have offered Lucius that he didn't already have? Money, position, power? But the Malfoys have always had those things, and his father Abraxas was never stupid enough to take the Dark Mark ... and he'd wanted to say something to Lucius when it was clear that the Dark Lord was regaining his powers, when the Dark Mark began to itch and burn - he'd wanted to tell Lucius that Dumbledore could help him, that even now the Headmaster would protect him, protect Narcissa, protect Draco. But he hadn't dared, because Lucius is like those exiled French kings, he's learned nothing and forgotten nothing in the last thirteen years.

He'd listened to the rest of the roll call - Nott, he didn't know much about Theodore Nott's father, he was one of the older Death Eaters, a follower of the Dark Lord from the early days; Macnair, he's a real thug, he'd been the Dark Lord's chief butcher; Avery, he'd known the pusillanimous little twat at Hogwarts, Avery would have been the first to beg for forgiveness – and to be punished for it; and Crabbe and Goyle - he'd been a bit taken aback when he first discovered that the Dark Lord included morons like Crabbe and Goyle amongst his elite followers, he'd thought, _they can't walk and chew gum at the same time_, but then he'd realised that they were the Dark Lord's muscle, because sometimes the Dark Lord likes to do things the Muggle way.

So, no, he hadn't really been surprised when Dumbledore had said, _Sirius, if you could resume your usual form_, and the dog had turned into a man. He'd asked – _what is he doing here?_ - but it had been a rhetorical question, he knew that Dumbledore trusted the stupid, arrogant prick. And he didn't hate Sirius Black any the less because Black didn't belong to the Dark Lord, if anything, he hated him more. It had been Black's idea to switch Secret-Keepers - and James Potter had committed suicide the moment he made Pettigrew his Secret-Keeper, because how many milliseconds did it take the Dark Lord to have Pettigrew wetting himself with fear?

Sirius Black and James Potter, what a pair of fuckwits – did they think they were still at school, did they think the Dark Lord was to be _played_ with? Did they think that hiding the child of the prophecy and his mother from the Dark Lord was a _game?_ Albus Dumbledore, the only wizard the Dark Lord ever feared, had offered to be the Secret-Keeper, and James Potter had turned Dumbledore down, turned him down in favour of his mate Black - who'd rather die than tell. Well, maybe Black would have died before he told, _maybe_, because the Dark Lord knows how to hurt people in ways that the good guys can't even begin to imagine – but if Lily had been his wife, if the blasted brat had been his child to protect, he would have gone on bended knee to Dumbledore, begged Dumbledore to be the Secret-Keeper.

If Lily had been his wife ... but he'd never been in love with her, hell, he'd never been in love with any woman, he'd never considered marriage, his parents hadn't exactly been a model of married bliss ... no, he'd never been in _love_ with Lily. Sure, he'd become friends with her, for what _that_ was worth, after Slughorn threw them together in his special advanced tutorials for his "two most brilliant NEWT students", and he'd certainly fancied Lily, who didn't – she was gorgeous. And although he'd gone running to the Dark Lord with the news of the prophecy, he'd never meant to hurt clever, pretty, Muggle-born Lily Evans – when the Dark Lord called them together to tell them that he'd chosen the Potter boy, that it was Lily's child who the prophecy pointed to, he'd panicked. He hadn't been able to hide his feelings, and the Dark Lord had thought it amusing to promise the wife of his worst enemy to him as a reward for bringing the news of the prophecy – if she was smart enough not to show fight.

The Dark Lord had actually thought he was being generous, when he'd said, "I can see you're … attracted … to the Mudblood witch. You can have her when I've killed Potter and the boy." The others had sniggered – they'd known what this meant – a Memory Charm strong enough to obliterate Lily's memories of James and the baby, leaving her an empty shell, it would be worse than killing her, nearly as bad as the Kiss, she'd be just a body to _use_. He couldn't let that happen, and he couldn't let the brat die - she loved the horrid mewling little lump – so he'd gone to Dumbledore and blurted it all out, but he still couldn't save her, he couldn't save her from her own husband's stupidity. James Potter and Sirius Black, they'd been the cleverest boys in the school – and they'd sentenced Lily Evans to death the moment they made Peter Pettigrew the Secret-Keeper.

He'd shaken that bastard Black's hand, yes, but only because it was a direct order from the Headmaster. And he'd put up a good fight when Dumbledore told him that Black was innocent, he'd refused to believe that Sirius Black wasn't the traitor and that Peter Pettigrew still lived - until the Headmaster had asked to see his memory of the Shrieking Shack. Watching the memory in the Pensieve was like watching a Muggle video-recording replayed on slow, and he'd seen it then - the rat, wriggling and squealing in Ronald Weasley's hands. And when you looked at the creature carefully, when you looked at it properly, it was clear enough that it was no ordinary rat - and there was a toe missing from its left front paw. He'd burned with shame and mortification at his monumental blunder, and that Dumbledore had to see it, how he'd raved and snarled and made an utter fool of himself, _I'll be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this ... he was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin ... a **tame** werewolf_.

He couldn't help flinching when the Headmaster put his hand on his shoulder afterwards, but there'd been no punishment, Dumbledore hadn't been angry with him, although in some ways he would have preferred a beating - with the Dark Lord at least you knew where you stood, it might be _crucio_ until you spat blood, but afterwards you knew that the slate had been wiped clean and all had been forgiven, so far as the Dark Lord was capable of forgiving ...

Dumbledore had packed Black off to run messages, contact the Order - two of the names he knew, Lupin and Fletcher, but he'd never heard of a witch called Arabella Figg – so at least Black wouldn't be hanging around Hogwarts, pissing him off on a daily basis ... assuming that he made it back alive from his upcoming tete-a-tete with the Dark Lord.

Walking down to the gates, past the Anti-Apparition wards, he'd had plenty of time to reflect on the situation, Merlin, it had been a shock to see Barty Crouch - another wizard he'd thought dead for twelve years! How many more of the dead are going to get out of their graves and start walking around? And what had Barty reported back to the Dark Lord about him? Shit, shit, shit, what had Barty said about him to the Dark Lord?

Thinking about that had, frankly, unnerved him – but at least there was an upside to how wary he'd been around the wizard he'd thought was Alastor Moody, he'd avoided his eye – both normal and magical - and, most importantly of all, he'd kept away from Dumbledore when Moody was around, because Moody was Dumbledore's old friend, Moody was Dumbledore's right-hand man in the Order of the Phoenix. And Moody had made it plain where the place of an ex-Death Eater turned Potions master was – and it wasn't anywhere near the august presence of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Thinking about Crouch had really burned him up, Crouch had tormented him and Crouch deserved everything he'd got - even the Kiss, though that had been pretty nasty, no doubt about that. Oh yes, he'd known very well what the arsehole had meant, _I say there are spots that don't come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean? _- and he'd remembered the first time that the Dark Mark had flared on his arm, not long after the delegations from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had arrived. It had itched and stung, and he'd Apparated straight to the Manor, because as sure as hell he wasn't going to play the game of "show me yours and I'll show you mine" with Igor Karkaroff, and he'd wanted to be certain before he went to Dumbledore – not that he'd been able to dodge Karkaroff forever, the brainless git had finally managed to corner him in a Potions class that included Harry-bloody-Potter, and for that asininity alone he hopes that Karkaroff's death will be both prolonged and agonising.

He'd Apparated to the Manor immediately he'd felt the Dark Mark burn, walked into Lucius' study, unannounced, with a house-elf squeaking indignantly at his heels - and without a word he'd pulled up his left sleeve and shown his arm to Lucius. He'd seen fear on Lucius' face then, because Lucius would be in for a severe beating, Merlin knows exactly what the diary was, but it was a precious artefact of the Dark Lord's. And he – well, he'd be thrashed within an inch of his life once the Dark Lord knew what Dumbledore had said about him in front of two hundred witches and wizards, _Severus Snape is now no more a Death Eater than I am_, because the Dark Lord is a jealous master. He'd known that even though the Dark Lord had sent him to Hogwarts with the task of winning the Headmaster's confidence, the Dark Lord wasn't going to be forgiving towards someone who'd played the part of Dumbledore's pet Death Eater for thirteen years.

Lucius had pulled up his own sleeve, showed him the blotchy red mark on his left forearm – and then Lucius had suggested a little friendly duelling practice - and an overhaul of the Manor's stocks of useful potions. That had been a very sensible suggestion, so they'd spent the afternoon going through a few basic drills, while poor frightened Narcissa consoled herself with a little retail therapy in Diagon Alley.

And now he's sitting by Lucius' bedside while Narcissa pours another goblet of Blood-Replenishing Potion down her husband's throat - and he's running the night's events through his mind and thinking about what he's going to put in his report to Dumbledore.

He'd Apparated to the graveyard, why exactly the Dark Lord had summoned his Death Eaters to a Muggle graveyard somewhere in the north of England - that was his best guess as to where the place was, based on the position of the stars – wasn't entirely clear, but what was clear was that the Dark Lord was in a towering rage, and quite a few people had already been smacked around severely.

He'd been the cynosure of all eyes from the moment he walked into the circle, and half a dozen wands had been pointed at him immediately, they'd just been waiting for the Dark Lord to give the word, but the Dark Lord had raised his hand – and he'd crawled on his belly to that hideous simulacrum of a human being. He hadn't dared to raise his eyes to the Dark Lord's face, he'd bowed his head and kissed the black robes, cringed and begged and pleaded – and the _crucio_ hadn't been too bad. He'd washed up with nothing worse than a sore throat and a cracked rib from screaming so much, because he hadn't tried not to scream, that would be Gryffindor heroics, and it would only enrage the Dark Lord further - if that were possible.

The _crucio_ hadn't been too bad, but the Legilimency had been another story - it had been brutal. He'd felt the Dark Lord's hand touching his hair, running down the side of his face, the palm under his chin, and the unnaturally long fingers gripping his throat, forcing his head up so that he had to look the Dark Lord in the face, so that he'd couldn't avoid looking into those wide, livid scarlet eyes. He'd known what was coming, he'd whimpered aloud with fear, and he hadn't tried to hide his terror - the Dark Lord expected his Death Eaters to fear him. He hadn't tried to hide the revulsion, either - he'd been revolted by the sight of that white face, whiter than a skull, the red eyes and the nose as flat as a snake's, with slits for nostrils, the hideous lipless mouth – but he hadn't tried to hide his horror, the Dark Lord wasn't an idiot, and you didn't lie to him unless it was absolutely necessary.

The Dark Lord had wanted to see Barty Crouch receiving the Kiss, and the brawl between Fudge and Dumbledore - and a few other things, the Dark Lord had gone on a fishing expedition through his mind, looking for information about the prophecy. And thank Merlin he'd had something new to offer up, there's a record of the prophecy stored in the Department of Mysteries, that's all he knows but at least it's _something _...

And while the Dark Lord had been peeved at the loss of Barty Crouch, he'd been fascinated by the Dementor's behaviour, he'd wanted to see that memory again and again – and the Dark Lord had questioned him closely about Fudge's part in the incident. He'd been pretty sure that Fudge had given no orders to the Dementor – Fudge had blustered and stormed to Minerva, but that was to cover up his confusion, he'd been just as surprised and nearly as shocked as Minerva when the Dementor swept past him and swooped on Crouch. And the Dark Lord had been very interested in what Dumbledore had said to Fudge about the Dementors ...

Having to relive the Kiss over and over again for the Dark Lord's benefit had been thoroughly unpleasant, he'd been standing behind Fudge and he hadn't really seen anything, just the empty shell slumping to the floor, but that had been enough to rattle him, knowing that this is the fate that awaits him if he slips up, if the Aurors can catch him alive in a Death Eater's robes and mask - because surely it will be the Kiss this time, not just Azkaban. And the Dark Lord had tortured him a little over that, the Dark Lord had leaned down and whispered in his ear, _Did that frighten you, my little half-blood? Can the Muggle-loving old fool save you from **that**?_

The Legilimency had been an ordeal, when it was finally over he'd been completely wrung out, he'd been sweating and trembling not only from the after-effects of _crucio_, but from the strain of deceiving the Dark Lord. He was still alive and – relatively – unscathed, but he wasn't naïve enough to think that the Dark Lord trusted him, he'd known that the path to forgiveness was going to be a long and hard one.

And then it had been Lucius' turn for punishment, the Dark Lord had asked about his diary, and when Lucius had to tell him what had happened to it, he'd gone berserk - Lucius hadn't been dumb enough to try to lie to the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord's rage had been terrifying to witness. Lucius had been held under the Cruciatus Curse for so long that he'd vomited blood, and that was serious, that meant internal injuries, the kind of injuries that can't be healed with _Episky_. And then the Dark Lord had really ripped into Lucius, he'd flogged Lucius with _Sectumsempra_ so badly that you could see the white bone of his ribs and his shoulder blades, but he hadn't touched Lucius' face, hadn't given him scars where it would show – because unless you take dittany immediately there _will _be scarring – the Dark Lord had remembered that Lucius needs his handsome face to keep doing his job, to keep conning the Minister for Magic.

The Dark Lord had used _Sectumsempra, for enemies_ - there was a message there, the Dark Lord had used his own spell on his best friend, and the message was that they were both in disgrace, they were both going to have to crawl across a mile of broken glass to regain the Dark Lord's favour - and when the Dark Lord had finished with Lucius, he'd been the one ordered to clean up the mess. He'd healed the worst of the wounds on the spot, got Lucius home to the Manor - Side-Along Apparition, because Lucius was in no state to Apparate himself - and Lucius will live, if he's carefully nursed.

So now he's sitting by Lucius' bedside, wincing at his cracked rib – he'll get Narcissa to fix that in a minute, you can't do healing spells on yourself – feeling the firewhisky burning his raw throat, it's burning his throat even though it's the good stuff, nothing like the cheap rotgut he drinks at Spinner's End, and watching Narcissa fuss over her husband. And he's been lucky, really, because if the Dark Lord hadn't been so angry, if the Dark Lord hadn't been so impatient, the Dark Lord would have made him do it to Lucius – as another punishment for living in Albus Dumbledore's pocket for thirteen years.

The firewhisky is doing him a lot of good, the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse have nearly all faded away - firewhisky is the best palliative, chocolate for Dementors, firewhisky for _crucio_ – and it's not as if he's never had a dose of _crucio_ before, but it's been a few years, thirteen to be exact, and he's not a kid any more, he's not as young and fit and resilient as he used to be ...

He's thinking, _I should be getting along, I should be heading home to Hogwarts, Albus will be starting to worry about me, and I've still got my report to make_ – but he wants to make sure that Lucius is going to be OK. Lucius is half-conscious, conscious enough to feel the pain, and he's wondering if he should just Stun him, knock Lucius out until the potions that he's been dosed with can do their work, because he's not a qualified Healer and pain relief isn't his strong suit – to be frank, he's got a lot more expertise in inflicting pain than in treating it.

So he just leans back in his chair, closes his eyes, and mentally composes his report to Dumbledore ... the Dark Lord's rebirth seems to have been an almost unqualified success, the Dark Lord has been restored to his full powers, but by Merlin the new body is not a pretty sight - although whether Pettigrew bungled the potion used to restore the Dark Lord or whether it's just a consequence of using such Dark magic he doesn't know; the Dark Lord will seek to recruit the Dementors and release Bellatrix Lestrange and the rest of the faithful from Azkaban, just as Dumbledore suspected - time-frame unknown; the Dark Lord seems to have been really shaken by Harry Potter's escape, he's even more obsessed with hearing the full prophecy than he was thirteen years ago, possibly the Dark Lord will make an attempt to obtain the record of the prophecy kept in the Department of Mysteries, he seemed very pleased with that information; and there are no immediate plans to move openly against the Ministry- at least none that the Dark Lord is prepared to share with his Death Eaters, the Dark Lord seems minded to take advantage of Fudge's obtuseness.

And then he thinks, it's worthwhile mentioning how the Dark Lord reacted when he heard what happened to the diary, I've never seen the Dark Lord lose control like that before, he came very close to killing Lucius – it _must_ be important, more important than I thought.


End file.
